


Making a Deal

by casip



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Awkward Conversations, Deal with a Devil, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Mentioned Dave | Technoblade, Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Poor Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit Friendship, Traitor Toby Smith | Tubbo, Villain Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), no romantic relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27536722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casip/pseuds/casip
Summary: “So, what do you say, kid?” Schlatt’s cheshire grin almost shines in the low light as he holds a hand out in Tubbo’s direction. The formerly pink light is now the dull yellow of early morning, casting the illusion of a shattered halo behind inky black ram horns. “Ready to make a deal?”Every single fiber of his being yells at him to say no. Orders him to deny Schlatt this and just leave. Tell Tommy and Wilbur what happened, let them lead the charge and he can sit inside, far, far away from whatever the hell was happening here.“Yes."TW For: Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, and Alcohol. No actual death or violence, though. A good bit of alcohol.There are NO romantic relationships in this fic.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 70





	Making a Deal

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly cannot believe I'm publishing this online but the hype bastard happened and now I wrote this.
> 
> Beta'd by the aforementioned Hype Bastard. Will add name when he remembers to tell me.

Tubbo isn’t stupid. He’s young, inexperienced, yes, but the one thing he isn’t is stupid. He can hold his own in most conversations, and rarely is he in a situation where he feels like the helpless child Wilbur loves to claim he is. It’s probably worked in his favor, until recently, Schlatt had assumed Tubbo was too naive to be a double agent. That he could work against him, and even if he was suspicious, Schlatt wouldn’t act on it, because, in his mind, Tubbo was just a  _ helpless child _ .

He’d give anything to see the anger on Schlatt’s face when the self-proclaimed Emperor of Manberg realized that Tubbo’s loyalties never lied with one particular faction. When Schlatt realized that, no matter what he did, Tubbo would stand side-by-side with Tommy.

Which now brings him on the trail to Schlatt’s ‘presidential office’, at the man’s urgent request. Whatever he had to say, it seemed to be important, because Tubbo was urged by the letter to come as soon as the sun set. The fact that it  _ had _ to wait until the cover of night had some deep-rooted instincts of self preservation protesting Tubbo’s decision to go the entire time he was saddling his horse, but…

He just had to find out. That’s all he was going to do. Find out what the hell was going on.

“You know, Tubbo, one thing I appreciate about you is that you’re always so on time,” Schlatt snarks, his feet propped up on his desk as he spins a glass of whiskey. It’s not even like he’s drinking it, the ice in it has long since melted, the alcohol clearly watered down. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Schlatt was still on top of his game, but with the healing wounds and chipped horn, it was clear something had changed between the festival and now. Even just sitting down, Tubbo could tell the ram-creature was off kilter.

It’d be an easier fight than normal, if it came down to it.

Before he can get a word in, Schlatt puts the glass on the table, motioning to the chair across from his. “Go ahead, take a seat. I’m not going to order your execution or anything.”

“You already have,” Tubbo speaks, but still does as he’s told. “Why did you want to speak with me, Schlatt?”

His question is ignored. “You know, running a country isn’t all I thought it’d be. Instead of being praised for my  _ innovative _ health care system, the new infrastructure, all people do is call me a tyrant.” Schlatt reaches for something, and Tubbo’s fingers itch for some sort of weapon, until the man pulls out a bottle of whiskey, taking a sip from that and sliding the old glass to his teenage conversation partner. “Don’t look at me like that,” He slurs, “Teenagers don’t drink across the pond? Bullshit.”

Once again, Tubbo attempts to ask what he’s doing here, what Schlatt needs. “They just don’t get it! I work my ass off to make sure this country is a place they can be proud of, and you know what they do?”

“Ignore you,” He answers, barely audible over a heavy sigh as he wraps his fingers around the glass of offered alcohol.

“Ignore me!” Schlatt slams the heavy bottle down on the desk, sending the entire thing rattling as he adjusts his stance. “I’m starting to think they’re  _ ungrateful _ . They don’t realize the work I put into making Manberg a safe place, and with you, Tommy, and  _ Wilbur _ running around, they never will.” He pops up from his seat, standing ramrod straight as he looks down at Tubbo. “Which brings me to why you’re here.”

He makes a careful attempt to not let the relief he felt show on his face as he looks up towards Schlatt. His face looks almost sinister in the moonlight, horns cast in a silver light that makes him look nearly ethereal. “Help me take down Pogtopia, once and for all.” 

There isn’t even time to think of a response before a laugh barks its way out of his chest, empty and hollow as an instinctual reaction. The man sitting across from him raises a single eyebrow, his ears lowering at the noise. Tubbo’s quick to get himself under control, trying to pretend that he didn’t just laugh in a tyrant’s face. “That goes… against everything I stand for, Schlatt.”

“No it doesn’t,” He mumbles, picking up the bottle and looking at himself in the glass, “You don’t  _ stand _ for anything. Not a cause, not a place, not an idea. You stand for Tommy. Which is why I’m giving you an ultimatum.”

Narrowed eyes raise from the glass in Tubbo’s hands, confusion evident across the teenager’s face. “A what?”

Schlatt grins, and despite the pink tinge in his face, it sends a chill down Tubbo’s spine. “Tubbo, you can walk away, go back to Pogtopia, maybe tell them about our little meeting. Then, after that, you can watch everyone you care about die, and anyone else who might support you.” He walks closer, stumbling slightly, but if anything, the stumble adds to the primal fear gripping Tubbo by the throat. “Or, you can save some of them.”

A small voice, one Tubbo doesn’t recognize as his own, speaks up. “But… he’d hate me. If I turned on him, he’d hate me.”

He nods. Schlatt  _ nods _ , tipping the bottle back once again to drink more as he looked down at Tubbo. If he was just a bit younger, he’d think Schlatt was being sympathetic. “He’d be alive to do it though. Which is all that matters to you, right?”

Tommy would despise him. Forever. Maybe stop talking to him entirely, maybe try to kill him. But… there was no winning this conflict. Any hope of Pogtopia walking away and reinstating L’Manberg was  _ gone _ . Wilbur went off the deep end, making deals with Dream and God knows what else. Techno is a loose canon, barely holding back his homicidal urges. And everyone else?

Everyone else abandoned them when it got tough.

Tubbo looks up with watery eyes, the sun just beginning to climb the horizon. It casts the entire room in a dull, pink glow, yet it somehow makes the shadows around Schlatt harsher. Like this, he looks as if he crawled out of the deepest pits of the Nether, walking on Earth solely to bring wayward souls to do his bidding. People like Tubbo, who cared more about friends than any ideology. “I… What would I be doing?”

Judging by the way Schlatt’s grin widens from simply predatory to a near-cheshire smile, that was the right answer. “Nothing that would dirty your hands. I mean, unless you want to, which, in that case, you’re more than welcome to join the festivities.”

_ Festivities _ . As if killing his friends was just another thing Schlatt did on the weekends. It almost makes him sick, hearing the loss of life be talked about as if it was something to celebrate. He doesn’t have time to voice this, though, because Schlatt starts talking again. “Just pass private information along to Techno, he’ll get it to me. If you’re lucky, Tommy will never figure it out. Not even when you two are the last men standing.”

“And you promise he’ll be safe? He won’t… you won’t go back on your word?”

“Me?” Schlatt puts a hand to his chest in offense, eyes widening. “No, never. I promise, if you’re cooperative, Tommy will make it out of this just fine. Not a hair on his head will be hurt.” A moment of silence passes between them.

No one speaks for a long time, Tubbo wouldn’t hear Schlatt if he did, anyway. The idea that he and Tommy could just walk away, get out of the wars and madness Wilbur had dragged them into was tempting. Finish the conflict once and for all and just get to be kids again after it, but if Tommy ever figured out…

“So, what do you say, kid?” Schlatt’s cheshire grin almost shines in the low light as he holds a hand out in Tubbo’s direction. The formerly pink light is now the dull yellow of early morning, casting the illusion of a shattered halo behind inky black ram horns. “Ready to make a deal?”

Every single fiber of his being yells at him to say no. Orders him to deny Schlatt this and just  _ leave _ . Tell Tommy and Wilbur what happened, let them lead the charge and he can sit inside, far, far away from whatever the hell was happening here.

“Yes,” He breathes, “For Tommy, yes.” Tommy would understand. He’d have to, one day. It was the only small comfort he could think of, that maybe his friend would understand.

Now, it’s Schlatt’s turn to laugh, but it comes out as more of an eerie, creaking chuckle that rips the comfort that Tubbo made up away from him, making him face what he’s really done. He claps his hand on the teenager’s shoulder, looking down into watery eyes as he does. “To the start of a beautiful partnership, and the end of Pogtopia.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading! I know it's rather short, but I do best with shorter fics. I'll probably write a few more MCYT fics, likely nothing super long, but maybe snippets of what I think happened behind the scenes.  
> If you want to find me on the MCYTTWT/DTTWT you can find me @casipwrites, where I'll probably just be talking about potential fics, if I remember it exists. I joined recently, so no real promises.
> 
> ~~And that creature AU. I ain't forget when I was talking about it.~~


End file.
